NATURE—AND MAN.

Southland Times, Issue 22043, 16 June 1933, Page 12

NATURE—AND MAN.

GLIMPSES OF BIRD LIFE. WONDERFUL PARENTAL LOVE. (Edited by Leo Fanning.) Many writers on birds have mentioned the remarkable love of parents for their nestlings. A well-known battler for the rising generation is die magpie, which does not wait for an intruder to approach its nest. This black-and-white warbler from Australia patrols around its nesting place, and swoops fiercely at anybody Who comes within the forbidden ground. Even much smaller birds will show great bravery for .heir young, and when they find that their courage is of no avail* they utter distressful cries in the hope that a robber may be moved to pity. New Zealand’s pied stilt, a species of plover, which nests in colonies on the shores of lakes, lagoons or estuaries, is notable for cunning as well as courage in defence of its young—a fact well told by Mr Edgar Stead in his book “The Life History of New Zealand Birds.” “Stilts,” he writes, “make a great fuss if anyone goes near their nest, flying to a height, and then dashing straight at the intruder, and giving a harsh cry as they pass close overhead and turn upwards again. Intimidation failing, they try to divert attention to themselves by simulating injury, shamming broken legs or wings in a most realistic manner. I have often watched one flying along, when suddenly it would give a loud cry of pain, and flutter to the ground in a lopsided manner as if one wing was broken. There it would flop along for a yard or so, and then lie 'down, flapping its wings and calling as if in agony. Perhaps it may stagger to its feet again, and then collapse with a drawn-out cry of anguish and a last flick of the wings, and lie still. For a few moments it will remain motionless, but the general effect is marred by the fact that it holds its head up a little while it keeps a close watch on the intruder.

"Dogs are, at first, completely deceived by stilts’ antics, and chase the birds with every expectation of catching them; an when at last they realize that they are not going to do so, the chase has taken them well away from the vicinity of the nest. Any hawks or black-backed gulls which approach stilts’ nesting grounds are vigorously attacked, the stilts swooping at them from above and behind. I once saw a harrier flying against a heavy wind over a colony of stilts, numbers of which were attacking it. They flew at it from a height, and, having passed screaming close over it, spread their wings to the wind and soared up, to turn back, and over, and swoop again. The effect was very curious, for it seemed as though the hawk was proceeding with a Catherine wheel of stilts above its tail.” Mother Shag’s Nursing.

Sir Walter Buller, who visited a nesting colony of pied shags, was much interested in the feeding process. “The old bird,” he remarked, “comes up from the sea with her gullet full of small fish, and takes up her station on a branch adjoining or overlooking the nest. The young birds, after, craning their necks almost to dislocation, quit their nest and mount up alongside the parent, when the peculiar feeding operation commences. The mother bends down her head in a loving way, opens wide her mandibles, and the young shag, with an impatient guttural note, thrusts his head down the parental throat and draws forth from the pouch, after much fumbling about, the first instalment of his dinner. No sooner has he swallowed this than he begins to coax for more, caressing the mother’s throat and neck with his bill in a very amusing fashion. The old bird waits till she has recovered from the discomfort of the last feed, then opens her mouth again, and the action is repeated, first by one young shag, then by the other. When the pouch is emptied, the mother spreads her ample wings and goes off for a fresh supply of auas, whilst her offspring shuffle themselves back again into their nest to await her return.”

On a footpath in the centre of Wellington City the other day I had to step aside to avoid injuring pigeons which were pecking hungrily at some slices of bread and butter left there for them by a friend. These birds are so tame that they will hardly bother to budge away from a motor car. They have a belief that man and his machines will give them the freedom of path or street. Of course this confidence is due to long immunity from persecution. Even boys, at the age when they have the hunting instinct, do not molest the pigeons. Many of New Zealand’s native birds had that same lack of fear many years ago before man began to take mean advantage of their tameness. “Many birds,” wrote Mr Edward Wakefield, “which are not in the least shy when first found in lonely places, become so as soon as they know what a cruel destructive animal man is. I can remember when shags and sandpipers in New Zealand were so unsophisticated that they would allow themselves to be caught by the hand, and even redbills would let us come so close that we could kill them with stones.” Blue Herons in Wellington Harbour, -ckanri yq ovu odta ia, taoin lao In the old Wellington Evening. Press, which < ?ased publication many years ago, Mr Edward Wakefield wrote pleasantly about a pair of blue herons. “I wonder,” he remarked, “how many travellers by the Hutt train have seen whtit I have seen, namely a pair of herons which frequent the rocks on the harbour beach about midway between Ngahauranga and Petone. These beautiful and uncommon birds have been there for months past and they seem to have taken up their abode there permanently ... It is usually regarded as an extremely shy and wary bird, having its wits wide awake against danger on all sides, and rising heavily and flapping a circuit out to seaward long before man can approach it. But circumstances seem to alter its habits. The boldness of the pair I have seen near Petone is more remarkable, because not only do trains pass close to them many times a day, but the Hutt road is only distant from their haunt a few chains, and fishermen, children and other intruders are always about. It seems to me a most extraordinary thing that these shy birds should remain there day after day, week alter week, month after month, disturbed as they-are by various visitors to the beach without apparently betraying the least uneasiness ... But to me the poor, harmless, beautiful, comical creatures are very charming on their own account, .popping about among the rocks, pecking here, stalking there, and prying into a crevice a little further on, attitudinising gracefully on a rock close by—surely, surely, they are interesting enough in themselves, well worth observing, and—oh ye pothunters—well worth preserving also!” Ever since Mr Wakefield wrote those words descendants of that pair of herons have sought a living on and about those same rocks. I have often seen a pair there during recent years.

Gold or Food?

In a preceding “Nature—and Man” article reference was made to some disastrous blunders of the past when the quest for gold made stony deserts of large areas of country which otherwise would have served well for the raising of food and other necessary materials for all time. Similar havoc now threatens some. stretches of land in Otago, particularly on the Cromwell Flat. “It is claimed,” stated a report from Dunedin, “that if the area is worked by ordinary methods some

land which may yield only a small return will be permanently destroyed. It is suggested therefore that the Government should not grant licenses unless it imposes the condition that the surface soil must be replaced. This aspect of the position is said to be engaging the attention of the Government.” It is an aspect which demands more than the traditional “careful consideration” and “keeping steadily in view.” It demands prompt action to ensure that a permanent asset will not be sacrificed for a comparatively small gain of gold.